


Petrichor

by veyl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Feelings, How Do I Tag, Implied Relationships, M/M, Meditation, Nightmares, Physical Awareness, Platonic Relationships, Sort Of, Souls, a little bit of, also implied sweats, and a reminder, basically everything kinda makes sense if you think about it, brought on by memory through the dream, can be read as genyatta but i think maybe also as, i think, im sorry, in a negative way, its a hazy morning atmosphere, talk of souls, that genji is So Much More, the metaphysical concept of sparrow genji, veryyyyy hm subtle, you know the time when Nothing Is Real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 23:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12444108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veyl/pseuds/veyl
Summary: Genji breathes deeply, taking in the smell of rain, the wet earth.





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gemi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemi/gifts).



It is not yet fully light outside when the birds wake to greet the dawn with their sweetsong and a gentle voice rouses him from sleep. A moment for his eyes to open, eyelashes trapped under leftover dreams; his face is bare, bare in the fresh morning breeze.

It is not yet fully light outside and already he is a little too aware of himself; there is a certain heaviness to the body of synthetic muscle and artificial joints, so very different to the memory he carries, like a river filled up with steel. Parts of his armour litter the floor of his room; he moves around sluggishly, picking them up, and they click in place over what is left of his flesh. Zenyatta helps with the plating on his back

and hums in tune with the birdsong.

It is not yet fully light outside, but the day will quickly melt with the summer heat. Genji sits on the floor, looking to the window (the clouds look like a storm) and thinks on the edges of a nightmare still fresh in his mind. The images not so much as

the feeling.

Usually they take the silence after waking to meditate, but today Genji thinks he might overflow if he must sit still in silence. He suggests a different meditative outlet; a walk that takes them away from their usual spot on the rock. Zenyatta hums and tells his student, his dear Genji: “As you wish.”

It is not yet fully light outside so they will not be missed. The base is still very much asleep when they make their way to the cliffs above the shore. Far in the distance there is the colour of settlement, farther still the white sails like a flutter of wings; but dull beneath the grey, grey, grey. _There will be a storm for sure_ , Genji thinks, and, _Hanzo will be happy_. He says this: “I had the strangest dream.”

Zenyatta gives him time to talk about it; Genji considers his next words with a rumble from the skies above. He does not remember all of it, there are fragments blurry and uncertain, teasing his tongue and his brain. He feels like there was something important in it and fears he’d forgotten it. The sky flashes overhead and he catches onto a fragment. “Oh, yes. I was on a bus and I missed my stop. Then when I got out to walk back home, there was a flash of bright light.” He frowns when thunder follows up lightning, pauses in his step. There had been no sound in his dream. “In Hanamura. Someone caught me by the arm, a boy. I think he was me.”

He takes a deep breath and says, “Yes, in fact, I am sure of it. He was me from before. And he was pointing wildly in the direction of home. Something was coming; when I looked I saw mist. Blue mist coming towards us, swallowing everything in its path.”

(Oh, Genji) He hears the quiet sigh and starts walking again, ever up and up. Slowly, with Zenyatta by his side, it seems like always. Their hands brush, the omnic sneaks a touch to Genji’s elbow, then lowers his arm again; Genji offers his pinky and Zenyatta hooks it with his. Genji breathes with the storm and tells the story his mind cooked up for him as the first heated drops of this summer’s rain sink into the earth and hiss against the stone. They sing over Zenyatta’s metal shell and Genji’s armour, and then Genji pushes his visor down and lets the rain dance on his skin.

They walk, Genji talks, the sky begins to brighten beneath the grey. Flimsy stripes of light reach through the thickest of clouds, heads heavy with golden crowns, fat cheeks catching a rose blush. Genji breathes deeply, taking in the smell of rain, the wet earth. The rain falls still.

His dream, not so strange after all.

Zenyatta reminds him, in his strange wisdom, that his body has never been able to hold his soul; that what is left of him and what is new are the same.

It is not yet fully light outside, but his soul, his soul soars the skies, then and always

it will.

**Author's Note:**

> Petrichor: A pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.


End file.
